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Late start on local Apprentice quest

Mark Bouris will not take the hit or miss of his
spin-off series
personally, writes Andrew Murfett.

IT WAS the catchphrase that launched a franchise.

For a brief moment in television history (tellingly, during an
economic boom), the curt manner in which New York property mogul
Donald Trump dismissed a candidate - ''You're fired!'' - became a
pop-cultural touchstone.

And when reality television's godfather, Mark Burnett, launched
The Donald's television career in 2004, The Apprentice was
an instant ratings smash.

Based in New York, a cluster of gregarious Americans competed
against each other via various Manhattan-based ''challenges'', with
the winner being appointed to work for Mr Trump.

The first two seasons were reality TV classics and rendered
several contestants superstars. Localised versions sprung up all
over the world. However, in the US, the concept would eventually
run out of steam. By season five, in 2006, ratings sagged.

In 2007, the show was axed, only to be resuscitated at the last
moment by NBC, which opted for a ''celebrity'' version.

The timing, then, for a local version of the franchise is rather
odd. When Kerry Packer, who was a close friend of Mr Trump's, was
still running Channel Nine, there was plenty of speculation
regarding a localised edition that never materialised.

It took until this week for The Apprentice Australia to
debut, as part of a revamped Monday night on Nine (that was soundly
beaten by Seven's new import Flash Forward). The local
spin-off of The Apprentice pulled an inauspicious 692,000
viewers nationally. Its biggest audience was in Melbourne where
265,000 viewers tuned in.

Mark Bouris, who takes on the Trump role in the Australian
edition, is, as he says, ''not Donald Trump''.

Mr Bouris was a founder of Wizard Home Loans and a former
executive at GE.

The applicants are vying for a role as business development
manager at his new company, Yellow Brick Road.

Channel Nine and FremantleMedia advertised for applicants this
year. They received 2500 applications.

A casting agency was employed and shortlisted 350 people before
a final 12 were chosen.

Demographically, the group is broad, with applicants ranging
from 19 to 54 years old. As with the US version, they compete in a
task each week, graded on who raises the most funds.

The losing team concludes the episode in Mr Bouris'
''boardroom'', where a team member is ''fired''.

Mr Bouris says Fremantle and Nine set the weekly challenges.

''We're running a financial services business in the midst of a
recession,'' he says.

''This process allowed me to test their characteristics over a
12-week period. The tasks set were pretty tough.''

Mr Bouris says using a casting agency to employ someone in his
business, for a salary package of $250,000 a year, was not a
compromise.

''I know Fremantle quite well. And they accepted my instructions
for what we were looking for. I didn't really think the American or
UK version suited the Australian psyche.

''I don't think it's right to just put people in their place.
You have to build them up as well.''

Channel Nine approached six Australian executives before tapping
Mr Bouris.

''I represent a lot of Australians. I was raised by a migrant
parent in the outer suburbs of Sydney, went to uni, did my best and
started a business from scratch,'' Mr Bouris says.

''I'm also fairly Australian in my approach to people.

''Everybody deserves a fair go.

''Even if I say the franchise words 'You're fired' - and they
are franchise words - each one said 'Thank you', because they
learned something about themselves. I wanted to give them something
to go away with.''

The winning contestant, Mr Bouris says, ''doesn't need to be an
accountant; just somebody who can get a job done and execute a
strategy''.

One of the initial amusing aspects of Mr Trump's
Apprentice was the interplay between the applicants and his
''eyes and ears'', employee Carolyn ''Ice Queen'' Kepcher.

Mr Bouris, too, has his own ''Ice Queen'', his assistant, Diane
Stone. ''Diane's brilliant,'' he says. ''She's been with me for 20
years. She's seen it all. She is very strong, pithy in what she
says but a great person.''

The Apprentice is Mr Bouris' first significant television
role and one he initially found daunting. (He appears a natural,
although his delivery of the trademark ''You're fired'' line is a
little stilted in early episodes.)

It was difficult, he admits, for the company chief to be
''pushed and prodded by producers, directors and make-up people''
during production.

''I was nervous. It took me out of my comfort zone. I tried as
hard as I could and enjoyed it. But I was getting told what to do
by a lot of people.''

Mr Bouris insists, however, that if the show fails, it will not
tarnish his image.

''It could be a reflection on people not being interested in the
theatre and drama of people getting a good job.

''My sense is, people love to watch other aspirational people
… This is a democratic opportunity.''

While he believes he is more accessible than Donald Trump, when
asked for any personal distinctions between himself and British
Apprentice protagonist Alan Sugar, it's Mr Bouris who is
pithy. ''Alan is cranky all the time,'' he says. ''I'm cranky only
half the time.''